


til death do us part

by snowlike (orphan_account)



Series: til death do us part [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, lots of ambiguous shit, nothing too graphic just yet, questionably dysfunctional kenvi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 14:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/snowlike
Summary: Two a.m. — Jaehwan stops the car at a desolate town by the ocean.





	til death do us part

**Author's Note:**

> thank you [sarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiesandJintrigue) for helping and spewing ideas in DMs with me as always ˘³˘

 

 

An old song, familiar in the back of Jaehwan’s mind, plays on their portable radio as he cruises down the turnpike.

 

Staticky and a bit unintelligible, he should really make a note to Wonshik to pick up some new batteries for the thing on their next stock run. But at least it fills the otherwise silent, empty space.

 

A part of him, somewhere way back in his memory, thinks that he can remember the tune from way before everything happened.

 

It’s nice.

 

In the passenger seat next to him, Wonshik sleeps quietly. Curled up in a ball facing the cracked open window, the ends of his short black hair blow in the wind. Jaehwan watches in adoration for a moment, and then mindlessly reaches over to run his fingers through it.

 

He’s careful though. Wonshik isn’t in a deep sleep just yet – telltale by the fact that he hasn’t yet started snoring – so Jaehwan makes sure to keep his touch light, the music down low, and maneuver his way around any bumpy obstacles in the road.

 

As he continues down the deserted highway, only a few upturned and abandoned cars on either shoulder of the road, a rusted sign catches his attention.

 

He tests the word written there out on his lips, “Walscour.” It feels familiar. A beach town, formerly occupied by the U.S. Navy, as indicated by the description on the sign; perhaps it’s a place he once visited as a kid with his parents.

 

Thoughts of his gentle mother and a father who was always drawn to the sea immediately flash through his mind like an old film he’s seen a thousand times, but just can’t yet put words to the pictures to. It’s enough to distract his mind and bring his hand to turn on the turn signal – though there’s long been no need for something like that – and exit the turnpike.

 

As it turns out, Walscour is just as deserted as the last town they stopped at.

 

(And the one before that, and probably the one before that too).

 

When he was a kid though, he imagines it must’ve been a lot nicer with a much warmer welcome than the few rotting bodies scattered across the sidewalks and in the middle of the road.

 

Jaehwan stops and parks the car at a coin-operated parking meter. Mostly for his own fun, so he can pretend that this place is still hustling and bustling and that this parking spot took him _forever_ to find.

 

He opens the car door with an added nudge of his shoulder, because it never wants to open so easily. There’s a light breeze outside, and the air has a particularly salty tinge to it.

 

It’s serene.

 

There’s something about the night sky here, the way that the ocean crashes against it. The stars are even nicer, brighter and bigger than he’s ever seen them in a long while.

 

Wonshik would really like it.

 

He wrestles the car door back open and kneels into his seat, stretching a hand over to carefully jostle Wonshik from his nap.

 

The younger grunts, hand gently pushing Jaehwan’s away with no real fight but just on instinct. It makes Jaehwan smile fondly, he’s glad they still work.

 

“C’mon,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to Wonshik’s neck and trying to tilt his head in his direction. “I have a surprise for you, silly.”

 

He groans, but an eye tiredly cracks open anyway.

 

“We’re at the beach,” Jaehwan informs him quietly.

 

“Beach?”

 

“Yes, look.” He points in the direction of the water over his shoulder. “The ocean, and the sand, and all the little shops back over there.”

 

Jaehwan steps out of where he’s half perched in the driver’s seat, walking over to the passenger door and wrenching it open. He guides an obviously sleepy Wonshik with a hand on the small of his back over to the sidewalk to get a good look at the water panning out before them.

 

The waves are small. The sea is mostly calm, but the small ones that do approach the shore crest out in hypnotic patterns against the sand.

 

Wonshik leans against his side, one of Jaehwan’s arms slung around his waist. He stifles a yawn behind the back of his hand, smacking his dry lips together at the salty taste in the air.

 

“Want some water?” Jaehwan asks, a murmur as he pets Wonshik’s arm idly.

 

The younger nods, dazed, dropping his head down to Jaehwan’s shoulder and pressing his face into his neck. He kisses the skin there lightly, just a peck of his lips. It makes Jaehwan smile fondly though, turning in his hold to face him, now pressed chest to chest.

 

“Well I don’t suppose you wanted saltwater, did you?” He asks playfully, cupping Wonshik’s cheek. His thumb strokes absently at the skin under his jaw, feeling around for the pulse there.

 

Nothing.

 

As per usual – for awhile now, at least – there’s no thrumming of a beat in the spot that there should be. When Jaehwan lies his head on his chest at night, the absence of a rhythmic _thump thump thump_ of a heartbeat to lull him to sleep always sets him on edge.

 

But it doesn’t hurt to check, even if Jaehwan’s heart does drop a little every time it comes back silent.

 

He does think he felt it once though, a few weeks ago. At night, while Wonshik was asleep and Jaehwan was doing his usual insomniac routine of biting his nails down to the stubs, both arms slung possessively around Wonshik’s neck and watching the door with an unwavering gaze, loaded gun sitting at the ready underneath his pillow. Lying there on his side, Wonshik’s chest pressed close to his own, Jaehwan could’ve really sworn he felt the calm thrum of a pulse against his fingertips.

 

Some might call him paranoid, but he knows that every move, every ridiculous plan he has made is perfectly justified.

 

Wonshik isn’t like _them_ ; not totally, at least. He’s still the Wonshik that Jaehwan married eight years ago and Jaehwan doesn’t plan on letting that change _any_ time soon.

 

He still has his mind, that much Jaehwan is sure of. His movements are a little slow and sluggish, especially when he’s tired like this (which is more often than Jaehwan would like to admit), but he’s still as Wonshik as he always was. Past the hazy, faraway look in his eyes, that brain of his still works.

 

Really, if you ignore the large chunk taken out of the back of his shoulder, he hasn’t changed, not too much anyway.

 

He still speaks, a lot of the time in short phrases and single worded questions and responses, but he can still do it. Sometimes Jaehwan can even get full sentences out of him when it’s daytime and sunny outside and he isn’t so tired; his speech is a little more slurred than what it used to be, but it still works.

 

Jaehwan knows that Wonshik hasn’t lost himself yet, he can’t explain it but he just does. Wonshik is too unlike the others, too caring and careful, has never once tried to take a bite out of Jaehwan, whether or not he was distracted and looking the other way.

 

Wonshik still loves him, that much Jaehwan is without a doubt sure of.

 

He still has enough of his mind, enough of his heart, enough control of his body to kiss Jaehwan languidly and tell him that he loves him and even fuck him (sweetly of course). Sure, Jaehwan has to do most of the work now, but all the parts and everything still work just fine.

 

He’s still there, somewhere in that head of his. Even when he’s tired and his movements aren’t as quick as they used to be, Wonshik is always there in his mind, as if he hasn’t changed at all.

 

Even if Jaehwan has to always keep the windows in the car cracked open to hold the smell of death at bay, even if he has to keep the both of them on the run at all times to escape the evil clutches of both the undead and _those_  who want to take Wonshik from him. 

 

Even if he has to sleep with a gun under his pillow and wake with a knife up his sleeve.

 

Even if he has to make sure Wonshik has a gun of his own, with only one bullet loaded into its chamber, for one very specific use, on him at all times.

 

_“Because I’m not like you, and I need you to understand that if anything like that ever happens to me, you need to kill me.”_

 

And if you look past the rotten, raw flesh on the back of his shoulder, the empty socket of a once mangled arm that Jaehwan hacked off with an axe at their cabin, it’s like Wonshik hasn’t changed at all.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come chat me up on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/kenbwi).


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